


Feels good, Tastes good, Must be mine

by Suphomie



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Captivity, Devil, Hell, Hurt, Lore - Freeform, Lucifer - Freeform, Multi, Obsession, Pain, Sadism, Satan - Freeform, Torture, lucifer!Theo, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:35:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suphomie/pseuds/Suphomie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo, Lucifer, the king of hell and evil, of all things fell for a human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels good, Tastes good, Must be mine

Stiles bare feet slap against the cold tiled floor of the palace as he wanders around like a ghost. For hell, it's actually very cold inside the confines of Theo's castle, even though outside is burning as hot as the inside of an oven. 

Stiles doesn't know how long it's been. Since Theo took him, that is. It felt like weeks have gone by, but it could very well be days, as there's no way to tell time down here, with no sun, and no schedules. Stiles suspects based on his own sleep schedule that it's been at the very least a month.

A whole entire month in hell. It's strange. Sometimes Stiles forgets he's in hell at all, but he is reminded whenever he sees a dead soul out the window, one that is looking for somewhere, anywhere to go. This place has no ryme or reason, so souls can be wandering for hundreds of years before Theo or one of his demons finds a way to torture them.

Stiles is not one of those souls. He was brought down by Satan himself, Theo. Well at least, that's what Stiles calls him, since when he presented himself long ago to Stiles, he said his name was Theo, even though it's Lucifer. 

Theo is probably just as you'd expect the devil to be. He's cruel, he's creepy, he's terrifying. But Stiles isn't afraid, will never be afraid of him. Theo might hurt people, and hurt stiles, but he's honestly just another monster, he's not as special as he leads on to be.

Theo has two moods. One, a constant state that he's always in, is amused. Everything that Stiles does is amusing to him, especially when Stiles yells. Theo seems to take a great bit of pleasure in Stiles' anger. The other mood is angry. Stiles has only seen Theo truly angry a handful of times, but that's the only time he's actually terrifying. He transforms into a hideous coal black _thing_ that's ten feet tall, screams, and throws things, and kills people. Stiles has never been on the recieving end of such anger, but he knows that whoever is gets far worse than death or any normal torture.

But most of time Theo is calm and calculated, thinking over every move ten minutes before he makes it. He's also not too hard on the eyes, as he possessed a body a while back, one of an eighteen year old who had light brown hair, peircing blue eyes, and a perfect, chiseled, tan body. He's expressed countless times that he loves this body and will keep it for eternity, even though in reality he's one of the oldest creatures on the face of the earth.

He also says that it should make Stiles more comfortable, because Stiles is seventeen, and wouldn't want to sleep with a thing that's over ten thousand years old.

This thought makes Stiles laugh to himself, as he passes a big stain glass window that bled orange and red into the room and onto the floor. He's sleeping with the literal devil. Satan. Lucifer. The all mighty, strongest monster that has ever walked the planet. For some reason that's funny to him, that of all humans through every time and every place, Theo chose _Stiles_ to be his plaything.

Stiles doesn't know why him. He's not special. He's not paticually attractive. He's not that smart. Though whenever Stiles expresses this, he only gets the reply, _you give yourself too little credit, darling_.

Stiles hates when Theo calls him that. Or any of the many pet names he has for him. It makes him seem loving, when in reality he's the complete opposite. Of course, he gives Stiles pretty things, a big silky bed to sleep in (though Stiles thinks that's for Theo's benefit because although he doesn't sleep, Stiles has caught him watching him sleep one too many times) and all that. But he also shows his love by torturing Stiles with knives and claws and other horrible things until Stiles is screaming his throat completely raw.

Stiles doesn't even mind some of that. Like the knives, the knives he has grown numb to, but it's when Theo starts to get more creative that Stiles starts to beg and plead and cry. Though he rarely asks Theo to stop, because he knows he won't. He merely asks him to go softer.

It's not even for punishment, because Theo has said countless times that he does this for fun, because Stiles looks pretty covered in his own blood and burn marks.

Stiles turns a corner and sees the big, grand door that leads to the throne room. Theo's in there, waiting for him, he knows it. Even though Theos the one who tortures him, he always gives him the time he needs to heal before bothering him again. Stiles is almost all healed now, and for some reason here he is, about to walk into the lions den because he grew bored and lonely. It's easy to get lonely down here.

Stiles takes a step foward and opens the giant doors with all his force he can manage, and they swing open and hit the walls with a loud clanging noise.

Inside is Theo's throne of bones (literally), and red drapings around it. On the right wall is a simple old fashioned writing desk, and on the other is Theo, sitting at the grand piano, fingers ticking the keys. The song plays loud, and Stiles makes a face and slams the doors shut again.

"Hello, pet," Theo says, not looking up to see who it even is. Stiles crosses his arms over his chest as Theo continues to play.

Sometimes when Theo waits for Stiles to heal, he keeps himself busy with stupid things like playing the piano, or writing. But most times when Stiles has found him, he was just blankly staring at a dark wall, waiting in the shadows for his pet to come limping back to him. As if he had no meaning without Stiles.

"You'd think after thousands of years, you'd know how to play the piano right." Stiles says casually. Theo stops the song short and turns to him with a smirk.

He stands from the slick black bench, revealing his entire body that's clothed in a nicely fitting black suit, with a red tie and the coat going longer almost as a trench coat would. "You know," Theo says, stepping over to the center of the piano where he keeps the liquor. He takes a wine glass and starts pouring a thick red wine into it as he says, "the piano was invented in 1709. Now, the harpsicord, which the piano originated from, that's what I'm good at playing."

"Then why don't you have a harpiscord?" Stiles asks, as Theo takes a long sip of his drink. 

"Because we're not in the 15th century, babe," he says simply in return. Stiles rolls his eyes at this, and takes a step closer just as Theo asks, "wine?"

"Sure," Stiles responds. He walks up to the piano and watches as Theo pours him a good amount of alcohol and slides the glass to him. Stiles takes a big chug of it, then puts it down. Down here, Theo had the best of the best. The best wine, the best food, the best, most luxurious items.

It's weird. That such a horrid place could appear so beautiful. Besides the dreary, depressing colors, the lakes of molten lava just outside the door, and the demon guards, of course. 

Theo watches Stiles lips as he takes another sip of the wine. Stiles doesn't really care when he notices, because Theo does that, observes him, watches every single motion he makes, observing and almost studying his entire body.

"Is this what you've been doing since you left?" Stiles asks, glancing to the piano. The last time Theo played with him had been.. Quite an interesting time. Theo didn't start with the knives like he usually did, he actually began with breaking a few bones. After, he'd used a match to burn a design into Stiles already bruising flesh. He ended with throwing Stiles onto the bed and fucking his brains out. This left Stiles bedridden for, if he were to guess, almost a week by now.

Once Stiles asked why Theo, the king of hell, an angel (technically) would ever desire such a human thing as sex. Theo responded that it was the body he possessed, that drove him to need, crave, _hunger_ for sex. But only with Stiles. He'd made that very clear. As if Stiles cared if he screwed around with anyone else.

Stiles still constantly wonders why Theo remains human. He always says how much he hates all of mankind, that they were simple bugs that God had only created to be squashed, _except for you, pet, God made you because I was lonely_.

Stiles enjoys listening to Theo speak about the world. It answers every single mystery that scholars and scientists have been debating since the beginning of time, and Stiles gets it for free from the source. Theo told him that God (or Yehuwah, as that's his actual name) made angels first. Lucifer was Yehuwah's favorite. 

Theo got to prideful. Too power hungry. He wanted to be more powerful than God himself. God did not like this, and he sent him to earth, cast him from heaven. Or, as Theo puts it, _people say I was cast from heaven, but I say that I leapt to freedom_. Theo created hell and became a God of his own.

Then, God made Adam and Eve. Theo didn't like this, he didn't like the human scum at all. To counter this, Theo made demons and monsters and every bad thing on earth, and then corrupted humanity to spite the creator. Of course this is all Theo's words, he could be over exaggerating, but Stiles still enjoys listening.

"No," Theo says, "I tried to torture a few souls. But none of them scream as pretty as you do."

Stiles makes a face of disgust. He reaches down and takes another sip of the fine wine, just as the grand doors creak open, and he turns to look at who had the guts to come into Theo's lair before knocking.

It's Derek. Stiles' face softens. Derek is the only demon that pays Stiles any mind, since all the others are afraid of touching Theo's favorite toy. And the only one that resembles a human at all. Most of the other demons are terrifying beasts down in hell when they're not possessing a body, but Derek looks human, except for his shifted face features that look like Scott used to when he was in his wolf form. 

"What?" Theo bites out, annoyed that he was interupted. That's the mood between angry and amused. Annoyed. 

Derek clears his throat, razor sharp teeth showing, glowing in the dark almost. He glances to Stiles and the way he's leaning on the piano for support. He then asks, "Is this a bad time, sir?"

Theo rolls his eyes. "Yeah, so why don't you get out of my presence before I skin you alive." He hisses, eyes glowing all red for a brief moment. Derek looks frightened as he glances at Stiles then backs out of the room and quickly shuts the doors.

Theo sighs, eyes fading back to blue, and takes another sip of wine as he says, "It's so hard to find good help these days."

Stiles nods vaguely, and gulps down the rest of his wine. He likes Derek. A lot. Of all the creatures he's seen down in hell, Dereks the only person- _thing_ that is even a little good. He shows Stiles sympathy and compassion, and that's so hard to come by with Theo- in fact, impossible.

The few times that Theo's actually busy, Derek has kept Stiles company, even though no ones allowed to talk to Stiles (one of Theo's many games that makes Stiles crave his attention). But Derek tells him story's of his life before he died in the 1600's and worked his way up to become one of Theo's demons that work the crossroads. If Theo ever found out, he'd probably torture Derek in a dark corner of hell with holy water.

Suddenly when Stiles looks up again, Theo is a directly in front of him, smirking. Stiles nearly drops his glass, but catches it at the last minute. Theo's smirk gets wider.

"What's on your mind, pet?" Theo asks, hand gently reaching over to stroke his neck. Stiles tenses at the touch, knowing that the gentleness can and will turn vicious at any moment that Theo feels like.

Up this close, Stiles can see the beautiful features of Theo's face. Not Lucifer, Theo. The body that Lucifer possessed over a year ago because he wanted to earn Stiles' trust or admiration or something along those lines. Stiles wonders if the real Theo is still alive in there, screaming to be let out. Stiles hopes not. Stiles can also see the thin gold chain around Theo's neck, the symbol of a star in a circle on it tucked away into his shirt.

Stiles shrugs. Theo's finger nails that were gently caressing his skin turn to claws in a matter of seconds, and plunge past the skin in Stiles' pale neck. He can feel the blood flow down and he whimpers, instinctively trying to back up away from the pain. Theo catches his wrist before he can, and squeezes tightly, as a warning. He keeps direct eye contact as he pulls his bloodied claws away from Stiles' neck and places them in his own mouth to suck. Stiles' breath catches.

"Don't run away from me," Theo says deeply, releasing the fingers with a pop, "do you really think there's anyway you can hide from me? From the most powerful being that's ever lived?"

It's like Theo can read his mind (which Stiles fucking hopes isn't one of his powers, though he wouldn't be surprised). Stiles has been planning his escape. Even though he doesn't exactly _hate_ Theo, if he never saw him again for the rest of his natural born life, he'd be happy. Though, escaping from hell isnt easy. Stiles doesn't have it mapped out- hell, doesn't even have this castle mapped out yet. And even if he did, how do you just leave hell? It's guarded by demons, and Stiles is still confused if it's under the earth or on another state of being or something. 

He knows he can very well leave, if Theo only let him, because he's not dead. Theo dragged him down here, still breathing. He's not sure why, maybe because playing with a living, breathing human is more fun than a human soul. 

Stiles doesn't know if Scott and the pack are looking for him anymore. Or if they know that Theo turned out to be literally Satan, and brought him to actual hell. But even if they did, how the fuck would they be able to bring him back? The only way to get out of here is a (quite literal) God given miracle.

"But what if you're not the most powerful being that's ever lived?" Stiles asks, voice kept forcibly calm and clear, so Theo would know that he's not playing games or teasing him right now. He's dead serious.

Theo tilts his head. Intrigue fills his features. He leans in closer and whispers, "and who do you think is, darling? Scott? I could crush him, Stiles, I _made_ werewolves. I know how to unmake them."

Stiles gulps at the ominous threat, but then says confidently, "Yehuwah."

Theo visibly tenses at the name, the only loss of his controlled persona that Stiles has ever seen. But, he recovers quickly, and a smirk again dances upon his lips. "He's been MIA for quite a while, lovely," He says playfully, putting his face into Stiles still bleeding neck and licking a line up it, "he can't help anyone. And do you really think that he'd ever want to save someone as corrupted as you?"

Stiles shivers at the contact of Theo's tongue against the tender skin of his neck. Theo's hand reaches up to pet Stiles' hair, the way that always makes Stiles feels like he's an actual pet.

"You're all mine," Theo says into his neck, close enough that Stiles can feel his breath, "for the rest of time."

Stiles shivers at that. He knows that it's not a bluff. Theo can keep him alive down here for literally an eternity. Theo can't die, and even if Theo did go too far and Stiles did actually die, Theo would have his soul. Stiles will _never_ be free from this place, and that thought is terrifying.

Stiles reaches his hands out to maybe push Theo away, but ends up just gripping onto his shoulders as Theo continues to suck hickeys onto his neck- Theo always liked lasting marks.

"What if I escaped?" Stiles said, voice weak, even when he tried to sound tough. Theo could see right through it, like always, because he's too good at reading Stiles emotions and knows all his weaknesses.

Theo laughs, deep and dark, into his neck. He knows that that will never happen, as does Stiles, but they're playing a game, and Theo loves games. "If you did somehow manage to leave me, darling," he says, pulling down the t-shirt under Stiles' flannel, and nipping at his collar bone, "all on your own..I guess I would have no choice but to let you leave- afterall, you would've outsmarted the devil- I'd have to respect that."

Stiles pulls himself away, and deadly serious, says, "is that a deal?"

Theo smirks, and tilts his head. He pulls away from Stiles' bruising pale skin, and reaches his hand out to shake. Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. Deal with the devil. How unoriginal. Stiles reaches back, takes Theo's hand in his, and shakes it up and down.

Stiles knows it's a long shot. But Theo can't break his deals- like actually, physically can't, the deals are binding. So, if Stiles can only find some way to escape.. Then at least he'd be free for good.

"Well," Theo says, moving back to suck on Stiles' neck, causing Stiles' knees to wobble as his hands reach behind him to grasp the piano behind him for support, "Since you're not escaping anytime soon- why don't we have a little more fun?"

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut. He can endure this. He can. As long as he finds someway- anyway- out.

He just needs to be patient. 

Very patient.


End file.
